


Story

by gilligankane



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-24
Updated: 2009-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-21 00:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/591340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You hold her hand loosely, as if you expect her to pull away at any moment, which if she were awake, would have happened minutes ago; hours ago; days ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Story

**Author's Note:**

> 097/100 in the Criminal Minds Table

You hold her hand loosely, as if you expect her to pull away at any moment, which if she were awake, would have happened minutes ago; hours ago; days ago. But she’s not awake and she’s not sleeping – she’s just stuck somewhere in between; somewhere in between, where you can hold her hand and pretend that the childish fantasy playing over and over again in your head really did come true.

It reminds you of Georgia, in Tobias Henkel’s house, when she shook violently and her teeth chattered helplessly. It reminds you of how she sunk into the couch in the living room – Garcia in the dining room – and of the way she grabbed your wrist as you turned to leave her there, by herself. It reminds you of how she whispered – half into her shoulder, half into the fabric of the cushion – that she wanted to hear a story; a happy story about a little girl who dreamed of the world and who grew up to the hold it in her hands. You told her a story then, and it had a happy ending where everyone lived happily ever after, and she smiled softly in her sleep until she started shaking again.

You imagine, if she wasn’t stuck in between being awake and being asleep, she would ask you to tell her the story again. She would ask you to smile and nod and jump up a little when the prince rides in and saves the day.

But she’s stuck and you can’t remember the story much anymore. So you make up a new one.

“Once upon a time, there was a little girl who thought that nothing could ever go wrong,” you start. The words are slow and steady and in time with the beeping of the machines; each word, punctuated by a beep. “Her mother used to tell her fairy tales: a damsel in distress saved by a handsome prince on horseback. Her father kissed her on the forehead every night before bed and called her his princess.”

A thump in your chest for every beep of the machine.

A beep from the machine for every word that slides out of your mouth.

“And when she slept, she imagined  _she_  was a princess and that one day, someone would save her from the soon-to-be empty halls of her house, where memories lingered. But she kept growing and growing and no one ever came to find her, to save her from her loneliness and she spent her days by herself, dreaming.”

The door opens behind you and you can almost see Garcia – tear-stained cheeks and a frown, because you said you were going home hours ago – standing in the doorway, her hair tangled and knotted and her clothes so uncharacteristically her. She hasn’t left the hospital either, because JJ is lying in a hospital bed and she’s not moving and Garcia “ _can’t be with anyone else but you, Emily, because that’s one of my best friends and you’re my other._ ”

“And then one day,” you continue, your words catching heavy in your throat. “One day, when she was grown and about to give up hoping and dreaming and praying, she met an angel. And this angel swooped down on her bent wings – because this angel was just as lost and scared as the little grown up girl – and saved her.”

You lean forward, pressing your forehead against hers. “You saved me Jennifer Jareau.”

“Emily,” Garcia whispers from behind you, her small hands burning through your shoulders. “Visiting hours are over.”

You don’t move except to lean forward a little more and find the smooth expanse of skin under her eye with your lips, pushing a kiss there softly.

“Don’t wake up without me,” you whisper into her ear.

The machines beep around you.

“I still have to finish the story.”

Garcia smiles sadly and you let her fall into your arms without a question. “She’ll wake up.”

_She has to_ , you don’t say, but you nod and try to smile.


End file.
